AN- Remember what I said about three chapters? That's not happening. Maybe four, or five? I don't know.
Thank you for taking the time to read. I do love reviews!
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The next morning, Liz got to work on presenting the case to the taskforce. She went in alone, as usual, and left out a lot of the major details, such as their means of attracting Stepankov.
When Red finally strolled in, dapper as ever in his three-piece suit, he asked for a word alone with Cooper and Liz, ignoring the twin glares from Donald and Samar. "Fine. My office," Cooper agreed.
"We don't have a lot of time, so I'll get right to the point. I only have two tickets, and since you know rule number one, you also know who's going with me."
"Surely you have ways around that."
Red laughed and shook his head. "You're absolutely right, Harold. I do, but I won't use them. I attend this event annually, and I won't compromise that by bringing a gaggle of cops along for the ride. I'm sorry."
"You understand that this is work, right? No getting stoned and hitch-hiking across the desert."
"Sir, I personally will not allow that to happen," Liz chimed in.
"Harold, I saw an opportunity and thought it may interest you. It's as simple as that. If I was wrong, we can skip this name. I'll go to Burning Man, and you all can just," he paused and waved his hands around, "keep doing whatever you do around here."
"If Stepankov knows who committed those intelligence breaches, then I want him."
"Excellent! Then I'm afraid we must go now. We have a statue, to ah... erect." He swung his gaze towards Liz, his grin broadening as she scowled.
"Statue?" Cooper asked, nonplussed.
"It's for our cover. We're sculptors," she replied hastily, allowing Red to usher her from the room.
He paused in the doorway to add, "We'll be in touch."
As soon as they stepped into the elevator, Liz delivered a quick, firm slap on his ass. "Are you crazy?!"
His eyebrows raised, thoroughly amused by her frustration, as usual. "You're more qualified to make that assessment than I am."
"Why would you even mention the installation?"
"To reassure him, darling, about how serious we are. More importantly, it's giving us a reason to leave today."
"So, you were serious about going now... okay."
Red walked her out to her car and casually leaned against the door, draping one arm over the hood. "Follow us out to the hangar. You can leave your car there."
"Wait. Now, Now?"
"Sure. Now, now. Didn't we already establish that? Are you feeling okay? We'll have to go shopping for your cover wardrobe, anyway. Where's your sense of adventure, Elizabeth?"
Red's boyish excitement was contagious. She pushed him aside to open the door and climb in, only feigning her annoyance by that point. "I'm sure I'll find it before we get there."
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They were wheels-up within the hour. Liz took a separate seat, across from Red, but for no reason other than the fact that they were both window hogs.
"So, where is our monster meat tower being constructed, anyway?"
Red chuckled. "'Monster meat tower'? That has a nice ring to it... It's at the Pineland School of Crafts, in North Carolina."
"Hm. Never heard of it."
"Nestled snug in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Breathtaking scenery. Have you given any thought to your cover wardrobe? We'll be there for a few days."
"Um, no, not exactly."
"Does that mean that you'll let me help?"
She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing his expression. Red, as usual, gave nothing away. "I will, with certain qualifications."
"I'm still waiting for 'fun Lizzie'. When will she be joining me?" he whined.
"You didn't let me finish. You can choose everything, but I want absolute veto power."
"Stilllll waiting!"
"Stilllll not finished!" She matched his tone perfectly. "I was going to suggest that you go all-out. I think I'll be more comfortable playing the role if I really look the part, and I can't help looking like a cop. So, help me to just... not."
He smiled at her fondly and laughed. "My little method actress."
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The flight from Virginia went by too quickly for so much as a decent nap.
Who takes a plane across a single state line, anyway?
They went straight from the airstrip to downtown Asheville, holding hands as they strolled along the bustling sidewalks.
"So... where first?" Liz asked.
"You have a hair appointment at Szep Béla, just a block ahead."
"When did you set that up?"
He winked. "They call me Concierge for a reason."
"But what's wrong with my hair?"
"Not a thing, sweetheart. Not one thing, but didn't you tell me to go all-out? We can cancel if you'd like, but we'll still have to make an appearance. We don't want to be on Béla's bad side."
She already had a particular style in mind - one she'd mulled over for years, but never found the boldness to attempt. This, oh this - it was a perfect opportunity to give it a shot without consequence. Subconsciously, her pace quickened, and Red dutifully allowed her to drag him along. He pretended not to notice, lest she temper her obvious excitement.
Béla turned out to be a charmer, well-heeled and dapper like Reddington. They greeted each other with a hug and a double-cheek kiss. "You must be Olivia! Raymond has told me so much about you."
Ah, this game.
He likes to pick a random name and story for her, say nothing of it in advance, and then sit back and watch the wheels churn in her head as she tries to play along without sounding any alarm bells. She shot him a pointed look as Bèla continued, "But you are even more beautiful than he said." He redirected his gaze back towards Red. "I don't know how you do it."
"It's all in the tongue." Their laughter echoed in the otherwise-empty salon. "But you're a handsome fellow - certainly more handsome than myself. I think you'd do just as well if you lived north of the Mason-Dixon line."
Whether Red expected her to agree with him or not, she couldn't be sure, so Liz remained mum. Béla was attractive enough, but Red is positively magnetic. She wasn't, however, about to risk any manner of slights against the man who was about to do her hair.
"Hardly," he replied. "Jack and I eloped last month."
"Mazel tov! I had no idea."
"So, fair Olivia, what can I do for you today?"
She pressed her lips together, her brow knitted in contemplation. "Ray? Why don't you get started on the shopping while Béla takes care of my hair? If nothing else, you should find your friend a belated wedding gift." She nodded towards Dembe, still standing dutifully by the door. "He can stay, if it would make you feel better."
She had only barely worked up the nerve to ask for what she wanted, and if Red stuck around, protectively watching Béla's every move, constantly meeting her eyes through the mirror, she'd lose her mind.
"Will do." He gave the stylist's shoulder a squeeze. "If I come back and her hair looks like mine, you'll pay dearly." He laughed, but it was just a little too loud, and hollow to boot. That nut, he wasn't joking.
With a reassuring smile and a quick kiss on her lips, he was gone.
Liz clasped her hands together and took a deep breath. "Okay! I want it short, really short." She pointed to a framed poster on the wall. "Like that."
"A pixie cut with side-swept bangs, then? Yes, yes. Those gorgeous cheekbones will just POP! And what about color? How would you feel about going blonde?"
"Blonde? I don't know... I'll have to think about it."
"No pressure." He ushered her over to the shampooing area and pressed a glass of champagne into her hand.
"Thank you. How many refills do I get?"
"As many as you'd like."
She chugged it all at once and set the empty glass down. "Can't drink with my head tipped back in the sink, after all."
"Nervous?"
"Just a bit."
"Don't be. If it wouldn't look great, then I wouldn't do it."
Béla, like Red, was quite the chatty Cathy, complicating matters for Liz when he started asking questions. True to his word, however, he kept the champagne flowing, and every snip, spray, and touch was both skilled and precise.
She should have recognized Red's puffery for what it was. He'd left her in very good hands. By the time her hair was nearly done, her nerves were effectively lubricated. "She caught Béla's eyes through the mirror, and asked tentatively, "So... blonde, hm? Champagne blonde?"
"Yes, wonderful! You're going to love it."
Red returned to find her still sitting in the chair, beaming at her own reflection while Béla swept the floor around her. He swallowed thickly, drinking her in with hooded eyes. "Li- uh, Livi. You look... stunning. I'm, I'm stunned."
"You like it?"
He held out one hand, mere inches from touching it. "Very much. May I?"
Béla looked up at him sharply, eyes narrowed. He'd spent the last ten minutes styling it so neatly, not leaving so much as a single hair out of place.
She shrugged. He was going to touch it eventually anyway, right?
But Red didn't just touch it. He combed all ten fingers through her hair, scrunched it, mussed it, and broke into an enormous grin, evidently pleased with the outcome.
"What are you doing?"
"I wanted to see how it would look after."
"After what?"
He dipped his head to lightly scrape his teeth across her clavicle. "You know."